Too Busy to be Tired

The forecast for tonight is a low of 11. The chill of autumn is here to stay, until its time for it to get worse. Despite all my work this week, both for courses and on my thesis, I still did manage to spend a bunch of time outside with an evening walk and chat or two; the days of watching the moisture of your breath diffuse into the air are back.

All that said, I don't have much time to write tonight. Heading out to wander around the city for a bit before coming home to catch a few winks and then heading up to cottage country to celebrate a buddy's birthday. Beer, fishing, fire, and...a homework assignment on tap for the weekend. The student life after the 8 month break has come on faster and harder than it did in any previous term, leaving me with barely the time to catch up on the news. Graduation in the spring will be that much sweeter.

Maybe they'll give me an office slightly bigger than this for my Masters work

Hoarse

I was bang on in figuring the work would start piling on this week. Tuesday's 9 and a half hours straight of class, without break, was a real winner in my books, and I can't wait to do it again for the next 4 weeks. I'm pretty much locked into the thesis project I didn't really want now, although the meeting I had today kinda had the thesis going in a more interesting direction. Here's hoping.

Of course, I could have been misinterpreting everything that was said because I was pretty spaced out all morning from the vast quantities of hydroxyls consumed last night. My voice is still raspy from having to yell over the live band, who played with some great energy all night long for a party cover band. It was kind of an awkward set-up in the bar, but everyone seemed like they had a good time.

After the band stopped playing, we stumbled down the street to hit up another bar to close down. Now, I know waitresses have to deal with all the stupid drunks, and just general outright idiots, so when they keep a sense of humour about things at closing time while they're trying to clean up for the night, they deserve a shout-out. In particular was the waitress last night who, upon one drunken buddy telling her how a couple other drunken buddies cock-blocked him by telling some girl he had gonorrhea, replied with "You know what the best part of you having gonorrhea is? The 'gone' part". Line of the night.

And now its time for the weekend again, which is itself looking pretty hectic with a hiking trip pencilled in for tomorrow, our first slo-pitch league game Sunday, and compiling a bunch of previous data for my thesis to prepare for sampling next week. In that realm, things to do items are racking up a hell of a lot faster than the things already done. Time to go attempt to turn that around.

Tie It Down, Then Tie One On

27 degrees and sunny around here yesterday, and now the slow decay into winter. Time to pull out the window air conditioner and stuff it away in the basement until next year. And time to buckle down for the endless reams of notes, and hours in labs. That's right racefans, its the third week of September.

If the weekend to kick the week off is any indication then the week shouldn't be too bad. It started with my 4-day weekend being broken up by an e-mail reply about finding myself a thesis project so as to graduate at the end of these 8 months of classes. Now, they're not ideal topics, the details of which I won't begin to attempt to bore you with, but this point in time isn't the one to be picky, so I'm rolling with it. Two topics: one an on-going project, an hour plus away near London, studying greenhouse gas release from groundwater reaction systems (read - not my ideal); and the other a project just getting off the ground, closer to home near Shakespeare, and more to do with groundwater itself than gases (read - the better project). But clichés exist for a reason, and I am the one in the beggar role.

So then, despite having my weekend shortened, it was better than sitting around in limbo with no topic. Then came the usual sitting around gaming and drinking with friends, with an unusual dose of stamina that kept some of us playing the original Mario and talking until all hours of the morning. Some nice warm weather, some slo-pitch practice with the campus rec team, more interesting conversation getting all nostaligic about the silly toys and games of youth, the horrible clothing fads, the kids TV shows that were so much better than they are today, and the haircuts our parents subject us to, before we go ahead and are old enough to make our own horrible choices (see mullet).

Throw in some good weather, a University of Michigan statement against the Notre Dame Whimpering Irish, some domination in the Pro Fantasy Football realm, and San Francisco actually pulling out a win under their 2nd year QB who seems to be settling into his role, and you've got yourself a pretty solid weekend.

Now I just have to carry that through the week, get some assignment work done, and prepare for the annual Logan Day drinkfest. Apparently the goal for the night is to get Steve on the stripper poles, as the bar we have reserved serves by day as a peeler bar...

Shouldn't be an issue.

Now That Wasn't So Bad Was It?

The first week back to classes is usually a joke. This term was no different. Already I'm sitting, doing my best to will the professor through the material faster. Of course once all the assignments and labs start rolling out next week, I'm gonna get bogged down quickly.

So this week I just let it roll at its own slow pace and didn't put in any undue effort, aside from a bunch of us cleaning up our student lounge, so as to be able to lounge like students in it. Our foosball table needs to be rebuilt, but the new dart board and air hockey table are good to go in my attempt to earn a 6th credit for the term in gamesroom domination.

I also managed to finally get myself on an actual, league play involved, slo-pitch team. Will I take it a bit too seriously? Probably. I'm a bit competitive, but not to the point of yelling and screaming at umps, who are after all volunteering anyways as far as I know. At the very least it'll get me fit to the point where my shoulders and hamstrings aren't taut like guitar strings 5 days after playing like they are right now. And I'll feel better about taking some kind of advantage of the ever climbing tuition like that Cliff Hangers game in the Price is Right, but without the possibility of ever falling off.

The school sure hasn't pumped that money into better wireless support in the Earth Sci building since I left, but seems to have put a ton of money into our student dive bar, making it into a more upscale bar, and less into a student dive bar, like the feel for a campus bar SHOULD be. I can guarantee Douglas Coupland won't be mentioning it in any more books again any time soon. Clearly not the worst thing to happen at post-secondary school this week though.

Anyways, 4 day weekend starts....now! Go have fun with bubble paper.

Bitch Tits Parcells

I don't have a TV capture card in my computer yet to add proper visual evidence. For that you should be glad. Bill Parcells needs to NOT wear a golf shirt at least a size too small for him. I realize when you get old certain things get beyond your control, but at that point you realize the genius of loose fitting clothing.

Man, I'm givin it to the old people this week...but they probably deserve it.

Rock Out

The room at the back of my garage is at long last respectable again. Not finished by any means, but all the major pieces are together. And to test it out my buddy Dave brought down his amp and we jammed for a while. Now, I don't want to put the exercise equipment that's chewing up room in our basement back there, and instead keep that room for rocking out, as well as I can pretend to do that.

As is always the case, we'll see what happens, and it'll be a while before the room is finished enough for that equipment to go up there anyways. I'll likely be bored of reliving my younger days playin in a 'garage band' by then anyways.

Classes at the university officially open tomorrow, but I have until Tuesday morning for my first class. As expected, my time off disintegrated rather quickly, but at least it was productive. That is, after all, always the goal right? Like an automotive plant, production production production. In all seriousness, I'd like to keep that up for the first few weeks of classes for once, where I usually tend to drop the ball and end up playing catchup for the rest of the term.

Although its never really bit me in the ass, I'd rather not churn out those last minute assignments so much anymore, cause at some point it will kill me, and I can't go doing that in my last year making sure to keep the grades for Grad school. That would all seriously hamper my plans to do nothing but laze about in academia for a few more years til I find a job I could truly enjoy.

Until Tuesday then, somewhat of a highschool reunion baseball game, some NFL opening weekend play and some surfing will be the chef's special. Go Niners!

Idiots

Hey old people, maybe unless you're homeless and are living on that money, you should NOT bring back 3 carts full of empties scattered into bags with a few cases at the after work rush hour and during the first week of school when every student in the city is stocking up. You're old, you have all damn morning every week day to take care of that crap. Do better next time.

I'm Wearing White, Fuck the Fashionistas

I have some peace around the house again for a week before my own classes start again. Everyone else has gone back to their working worlds or early start classes, which means I can get things accomplished again. But along with back to school comes the throng of yellow bananas, students, bad foreign student drivers, and a surge of parents helping all the frosh move in. In short, its busy again in this 2 university town, and a pain in the ass to get around, or get shit done.

Along with the annual surge in traffic, is the annual reminder that I'm getting older. The frosh don't even fall in the half age + seven safe zone anymore. They're kids. My little brother is apparently in grade 11 already. And to top it off, Retro Much More Music played the videos for About a Girl (Unplugged in NY) and Outshined (if anyone has a good site for free video or audio streaming, post a link). Maybe a bit premature for retro, but still over 12 years already. That's some craziness.

And I guess that Steve Irwin thing was the real deal; a shame for his young family, but getting to go out doing what you love is something we could all be so lucky to have.

Closing out, Raymi shows once again that Lindsay Lohan can't keep herself covered up. When your bits are popping out that often, its not so accidental anymore.

The Steve Irwin Legend?

It seems that the Croc Hunter may have finally met his match. Now I'm skeptical, cause I remember reading the stories as the man was getting famous about being killed by crocs, or snakes, or whatever other dangerous animal of the day sparked people's imaginations. Those hoax reports helped build the huge persona he went on to become.

So when I realize that Steve Irwin hasn't been on a north american talk show plugging a new series lately, and not getting much syndicated play, at least on the channels I have, I wonder whether this might be an attention grabber from a guy that comes off as somewhat of a prankster.

If not, then ouch, cause dude just got killed with a Hollywood style stringray barb to the heart. But he'll have a reputation right up there with James Dean, and be the answer to Trivial Pursuit questions for years.

Well, Shit!

Apparently we're already in September. No wonder I had to bust out a long sleeve shirt this evening, and no wonder my little bro is all pissy about only having four days of freedom left. I, to be fair, only have a week more, but we all know I'll be doing my best to stretch that week into eternity.

On top of moving another buddy this week, I also managed to get some drywalling done, a computer built, a bike tuned up, a birthday celebrated, and a bunch of beer and whisky downed. I can't say its been time wasted, which is a welcome change from my norm. This weekend was looking like a trip up north to party it up cottage style, but true to form, I have no idea what's going on, and the forecast is for rain, rain and some rain.

Saves me some gas and some nearly inevitable drama anyways. So instead tomorrow night calls for a backyard fire, and then from there, the plans can fall in whatever haphazard drunken manner they wish. So if you're lookin for something to do...come help destroy my liver!